


trained medical professional

by jjjat3am



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, an excuse to write mother hen Sam and scrappy Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-18
Updated: 2014-06-18
Packaged: 2018-02-05 06:10:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1808242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjjat3am/pseuds/jjjat3am
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve gets reverted into his pre-serum body by a Hydra weapon and Sam deals with the aftermath of an asthmatic, feverish Steve Rogers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	trained medical professional

**Author's Note:**

> Blame [zarabithia](http://zarabithia.tumblr.com/) who made a post about Sam and pre-serum Steve that pretty much ate my brain. This is the result.

 

 

 

Really, they should have probably paid more attention to the strange looking gun that the Hydra scientist was aiming at them, but in their search for Bucky these past few months, they’d been shot at with so many weapons, it was becoming hard to care about the specifics.

 

Sam was preoccupied with two Hydra agents wielding flame throwers so he didn’t see when the weapon locked onto Steve, but he certainly noticed when it imploded on itself, taking the shooter with it and incasing the room with thick smoke.

 

It was a quick matter to dispose of the two pyromaniacs in the blurred surroundings and Sam rushed over to where he’d last seen Steve.

 

“Cap? You okay?” he called out, advancing through the smoke.

 

A cough answered him and a few steps brought him to where Steve was standing. Except, it wasn’t the Steve he was used to. His previously snug uniform was hanging off his body and he was leaning on the shield that now dwarfed him in size. It reminded Sam of a documentary he watched in high school, when their history teacher had been sleeping off a hangover and pulled out a VHS tape to entertain them. The image of pre-serum Steve Rogers had stayed with him for a long time, especially because of the contrast between the bodies after the transformation. He never thought he’d have the opportunity to see it for himself, but now Steve was standing in front of him, pale and skinny, but quickly turning purple from lack of breath.

 

“Hey,” Sam stepped forward to hover by Steve’s side “just breathe, okay?”

 

Steve shot him a look that let him know that he was decidedly not helping with the breathing situation and his coughing didn’t subside.

 

After a moment, Sam rested his hand between Steve’s shoulderblades, rubbing in what he hoped was a soothing motion, while mentally calculating the distance to the nearest hospital.

 

Eventually, Steve stopped coughing, but his breathing was shallow and he was soaked through with sweat.

 

“We should get you to a hospital.” Sam said, catching Steve’s hand to take his pulse.

 

“No hospital.” Steve’s voice was raspy, but it had a hint of steel in it, though the way he was leaning up against the shield betrayed how exhausted he really was.

 

“Are you sure? We could contact Natasha; see if she’d ever heard of something like this happening.”

 

“She’s in deep cover until next week. Do you see the weapon anywhere?”

 

“Disappeared, along with the scientists.” Sam shook his head, catching Steve when he stumbled forward and tripped over his boots. “We’re probably gonna have to call Stark if…” the ‘ _if this is permanent’_ went unspoken, but not unheard, if the way Steve tensed was to be any indication.

 

“Tomorrow. We’ll call them tomorrow.” said Steve, taking a deep breath before descending into another coughing fit. Sam pitched forward to grip the shield in one hand, allowing Steve to lean into his side for support.

 

After the coughing stopped, they moved out of the warehouse slowly, Sam in front of Steve for once, Steve’s shield in hand. He could hear Steve’s gasping breaths behind him and for a wild moment he wanted to reach back to grip his hand. He squashed the thought, aware of how patronizing it was, especially since there could still be Hydra agents somewhere in the building.

 

It was still Steve there with him,  the same Steve that liked jumping out of airplanes without a parachute, the same Steve who could take down a room of highly trained assassins without breaking a sweat and still the same Steve that Sam knew. Just…smaller.

 

When they got outside, the Hydra minions had thankfully already fled the scene and their car was still waiting for them where they left it.

 

Sam drove them to the hotel, thoughts racing, while Steve dozed fitfully in the seat next to him. It seemed that whenever he slept too deeply, his breath stuttered and he woke up again. Rinse and repeat.

 

Sam noticed the way Steve drew closer when he turned on the heat, even though the dry air probably made it even harder not to cough. Steve was shivering, the heavy uniform hardly enough protection from the cold.

 

When they arrived at the hotel Sam was praying that the lights would be dim enough that the receptionist wouldn’t notice that the tall and handsome stranger she flirted with this morning was now considerably more compact.

 

Steve was still napping when Sam parked, but he blinked awake when he turned off the heat. Sam went out to secure their weapons in the trunk of the car, strapping in the shield and the wing pack and overlaying the alarms on them. He found an old hoodie in the back, tucked into one of the corners next to a box of ammo and handed it to Steve who was already beginning to shiver in the night air.

 

“Here.” Sam said. And then, thoughtlessly: “Don’t stretch it out.”

 

Sam winced when Steve’s expression froze, already opening his mouth to apologize, but surprisingly enough, Steve burst out laughing and some of the strange tension between them evaporated.

 

“I’ll try not to, since you insist on lending me the expensive clothes.” Steve pulled the faded fabric over his head, snickering.

 

As expected, the hoodie was too big on Steve, sleeves reaching down to his knuckles and the fabric hanging off his body almost comically. Still, it stopped the shivering.

 

The receptionist was thankfully absent and they were able to sneak into their room undetected. Confronted by the mess they’d made of it before they left in a hurry, Sam sent Steve to shower, while picking up the stray articles of clothing and fiddling with the thermostat.

 

Steve started coughing in the bathroom again and Sam kept a close ear on it while searching the internet for a nearby open pharmacy, and the directions to the emergency hospital, if things got worse during the night.

 

By the time Steve came out of the shower, Sam had already warmed up the room and piled up all the blankets they had on Steve’s bed.

 

Steve hesitated in the doorway and Sam took in the image he made in rolled up sweatpants and the hoodie he was still wearing, before patting the space on the bed.

 

“Come on, I want to check your breathing before I head for the pharmacy.”

 

“You don’t have to.” Steve frowned “I’m fine.” Sam raised an eyebrow in return and Steve sighed heavily before sitting down.

 

“Let the trained medical professional be the judge of that.” Sam took Steve’s wrist gently, pressing down to feel the pulse. It wasn’t that abnormal, but if you knew Steve’s usual vitals, it was practically slow. His breathing was still worryingly shallow and he probably had a fever. When Sam pressed down on his side, he tried to hide a wince and Sam frowned.

 

“Steve? What hurts?”

 

“Nothing. It’s fine.”

 

“Oh, funny. Tell me.”

 

“I’ll be alright, I remember feeling like this.” Steve drew away from his hands and Sam was beginning to feel hurt by the snub.

 

“Oh, I see that Fort Nix offered medic training. Was there also a class on ‘Stubbornness and Communication’?”

 

“It was Camp Lehigh, actually.” Steve finally cracked a smile. He coughed briefly before continuing. “I have some bruising on my side and my joints hurt, but it’s nothing I’m not used to. Or I was.”

 

Sam nodded, and then had Steve pull up his shirts, hissing when the extensive bruising was revealed. Still, when he pressed down on it there seemed to be nothing broken.

 

“Alright, you should be fine until I get back from the pharmacy, but you need to rest.” Steve looked about ready to argue and Sam could see his eyes darting to the files strewn on the table from before. “Steve, it can wait. Rest, okay?”  

 

Steve nodded and made himself comfortable in the nest Sam made him, while Sam picked up the jacket and keys.

 

“See you later, okay? Try not to cough your lungs out until I get back.” Sam was mostly cracking jokes to hide his worry, because at this point they had no idea if this was going to be permanent or not.

 

One thing was for sure: searching for Bucky would have to wait.

 

 

*

 

 

The pharmacy sold some over the counter asthma medication that would hopefully tide Steve over until they could get him to a doctor. Sam bought several types of pain medication as well, careful to avoid the aspirin. The sleepy pharmacist gave him a strange look at the size of the purchase, but Sam was a firm believer in better safe than sorry. Chances were that Natasha would drop in on them next week, bruised and cut up and grateful for Sam’s thoughtfulness.

 

He drove to the hotel as quickly as possible while still obeying speed limits and tiptoed past the receptionist snoring on the desk.

 

Steve had gotten worse while Sam was gone, glassy eyed and coughing. Sam pulled out the inhaler, helping Steve take the shot correctly and anxiously counting down the minutes until it took and Steve started breathing normally. Then came the pain pills and settling Steve back into the blankets.

 

Sam made some tea in the hotel room kettle, but when he brought it to bed, Steve was already asleep, so Sam dragged over a chair to the side of the bed to watch over him.

 

A few hours later his was woken from his doze by a tentative “Sam?”, when Steve’s fever finally broke. From then on it was a simple matter of helping Steve change into dry clothes and resettling him into the other bed.

 

“I’m cold.” Steve frowned at his hands, rubbing them together to generate some warmth. “How can I still be cold with all these blankets?”

 

“Your circulation isn’t the best and the fever hasn’t helped any. Your blood oxygen level is probably a bit lower as well.”

 

“Is that the trained medical professional speaking?” Steve grinned at him.

 

“Well, at least you’re not insisting that you’re fine anymore.”

 

“That’s because I’m not fine, I’m cold.” Steve peered at him over the edge of the comforter, his blue eyes somehow more luminous in the sharper angles of his face.

 

“Warm me up?”

 

Sam took a deep breath, glancing from Steve’s hopeful expression to the empty space on the bed, before shrugging and crawling under the covers to nestle against Steve’s side.

 

Steve turned so they were facing each other and Sam sneaked an arm around his waist to pull him closer. Steve tensed, before settling, head tucked under Sam’s chin.

 

Somewhere between Kansas and Virginia their mutual attraction had settled into comforting touches and heated kisses, and Sam was grateful for it. This situation, at least, was familiar for all that their bodies were different.

 

He finally took a moment to just watch Steve, feel the calluses on the hands holding him where the serum usually erased them. Sam drew the back of his hand carefully up the line of Steve’s back to settle his thumb over a sharp collarbone.

 

Steve chose that moment to shift, causing a certain part of Sam’s anatomy to settle flush against his body.

 

“Oh!” Steve drew back to look between them. “I mean…still?”

 

And there was so much surprise and wonder in those simple words that Sam felt an absurd urge to throttle everyone that had ever spoken down to Steve, everyone that had ever made him feel inadequate in this body. He wanted to trace the angular lines of Steve’s spine, kiss the plains of Steve’s stomach until the skin beneath was aware of its shape, tell him how he’d fallen in love with the man, not the serum.

 

Instead, he replied with a simple “Yep.” and drew Steve into a kiss that was passionate enough to warrant another shot from the inhaler.

 

It didn’t move past a few heated kisses, because Sam was still a trained medical professional and knew not to take advantage of his patient.

 

The settled into silence, trading breaths. Sam admired how easily Steve fit into his arms, because usually he was the one draping himself all over the other man, but now if he did the same thing he’d probably be cutting off airflow.

 

Steve huffed a breath against Sam’s neck.

 

“What’s so funny?” Sam whispered, pressing a kiss to Steve’s temple.

 

“Nothing. It’s just that maybe if Bucky saw me like this, he’d recognize me.”

 

“Steve…” Sam drew back to study him, worry coloring his words.

 

“I’m still going after him, Sam.” Steve said quietly “I have to.” Sam sighed.

 

“I know. You never needed classes on stubbornness.” _and you wouldn’t be the man I feel in love with if you didn’t,_ Sam added quietly in his head, knowing that the time wasn’t right to say them.

 

“You’ll come?”

 

“Are you kidding me or do you have a fever again?” but Steve looked totally serious, never mind that he just asked the stupidest question. “Of course I’m coming with you, you stubborn jerk.”

 

“Thanks, Sam.” Steve reached up to pull Sam in for a kiss.

 

They descended into silence and soon enough Steve’s breaths evened out in slumber, and only then would Sam close his eyes as well.

 

 

*

 

 

Sam woke up in the middle of the night, because suddenly the bed had a lot less space and he had an armful of Captain America.

 

“You good?”

 

“The sweatpants are a little tight.” _shifting and rustling noises_ “Better.”

 

“Okay.” Sam took a moment to rearrange himself into a more familiar position and fell back asleep immediately.

 

 

 

A beat later:

 

“I can’t believe you wouldn’t have sex with my other body because you thought I’d get an asthma attack.”

 

“Shut up, Steve.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> As ever, you're welcome to visit my [tumblr](http://jjjat3am.tumblr.com/) and say hi. Let us cry over our lord and savior Sam Wilson together.


End file.
